


Drumming Noise

by ataraxia_807



Series: How it might've happened [2]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Developing Relationship, F/F, Masturbation, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 15:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7321207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ataraxia_807/pseuds/ataraxia_807
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ali's point of view as her and Ashlyn lead up to making things physical. Lots of flirting, lots of pining, a bit of diving into a bathroom for ... something. </p><p>The song is obviously not mine and obviously belongs to Florence and the Machine cause they're awesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drumming Noise

**_there’s a drumming noise inside my head that starts when you’re around_ **

                From the first moment Ali lays eyes on her, she’s struck by an overwhelming desire to know her, be near her. She feels heaviness to the air in the stadium, muffling all other sights and sounds until every sense, each synapse is attuned to the tawny blonde woman standing ten yards away, smiling and laughing. Her mouth is stretched wide between thin lips, all shining white teeth and tightened cheeks and a starkly standing dimple on the left side. Ali hasn’t been introduced but that has to – no, _must_ change immediately because she can’t go another minute without knowing her name.

                Ali makes a beeline to her as she stands refilling her water bottle. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Ali.” The blonde looks up and her eyes are so clear and kind that Ali falters a moment before extending her hand.

                “I’m Ashlyn”, she says with a smile and warm, confident handshake. Again, there’s a pulse in the ground that echoes in her bones, timbre and cadence captured and rattling around Ali’s head, playing over and over until it’s remembered perfectly, even as they go their separate ways for different drills.

                For the rest of the day she’s terribly distracted, often missing passes and even sending sloppy ones, caught multiple times chastising herself by the other players around her. _It’s okay_ , they urge, _no big deal_ , but it **is _._** This chance to play for the senior national team is everything that Ali’s been working for, breaking her back for and she’s already fucking it up. She pinches the inside of her wrist while turning back to the other players, ready to get serious and leave the errant thoughts for later.

                At least that’s her honest intention until the next drill requires shooting on goal. Ashlyn’s got a cocky smirk emblazoned across her face while she hops between the posts, stretching her long, lithe body out while Ali walks up to the starting cone for her turn. And then she’s just standing there, horrible tunnel vision returning in a quick fog until the keeper is the only thing she’s aware of in the world. She should be moving, should be kicking, should be anything else but standing and staring and she’s reminded of the fact with another sharp whistle from Pia which catapults her into action.

                When she misses the shot, a terribly curved ball that flies so far past the left post that Ashlyn barely even makes a move to deflect, Ali feels an icy wave of shame and turns to make eye contact, determined to squash this fascination, whatever it is. Except the keeper is looking at her with sincerity and makes a comment that “It’s okay, the sun was in your eyes” giving a padded thumbs up through her gloves, and the flip in Ali’s stomach isn’t easy to ignore.

**_i swear that you could hear it, it makes such an almighty sound_ **

                Later that evening Ali is walking through the hotel hallways, headphones in her ear as loud as she can stand, losing herself to the rhythm and beats and high notes. _Today was silly_ she thinks to herself, recounting the solid part of the morning it took for her to fully be able to focus on her playing. Her wandering feet are carrying her through the lobby and the vending machine area and into where the indoor pool is throwing rippling shadows on the walls, empty save for the man checking the chlorine levels.

                After a quick wave to him she finds a pool chair to lean back in, bringing her hands above her head and closing her eyes, clicking the volume up two more ticks and settling her bones more fully into the cushioned seat. She begins to go through her relaxation techniques, kicking off her flip-flops and extending her toes out, flexing and pointing, then switching to roll her feet and ankles. Up and up her body she goes, stretching and rotating her joints and muscles, feeling the tension from the day draining away until all that’s left is the light soreness from a hard workout.

                Eyes still closed, she allows her mind to drift to Ashlyn, feeling confident that she’s finally sorted out whatever that morning had been. _I was tired_ , she resolves, _and I’m kind of the outsider. She’s just nice_. And she is, truly, Ali knows this. One day in and she’s already showing herself as someone who can keep up morale and help create camaraderie. As important as it is to have someone who can find the back of the net with every shot, it’s equally vital to have glue to hold everybody together. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that Ashlyn is a solid keeper, diving in all directions for the ball, fearlessly guarding from each player.

                With her focus recounting the day’s events, Ali doesn’t hear someone walking up and the taps on her arm cause her eyes to fly open in surprise, nearly tossing her iPod out of her hands. “Jesus!” she exclaims, startling Ashlyn who’s leapt back two feet to avoid Ali’s flailing limbs.

                “Sorry!” she says with her palms up, and Ali first notices the tattooed sleeve on her left arm, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you were asleep. Becky is looking for you upstairs.”

                Once Ali settles, heart rate still elevated and earbuds blaring without the cushion of her ears, she presses pause and stands up, a sheepish smile on her face while Ashlyn returns an equally awkward one. “Sorry. I was just relaxing a bit before bed. I didn’t hear you walk up.”

                Ashlyn lifts an eyebrow at this, gesturing down to the headphones in her hand. “Relaxing is a rock concert in your ears?”

                “To each her own,” Ali beams, slipping her sandals back on, and it’s returned back at her.

                There’s a pause while they search each other’s faces, standing just feet apart; Ashlyn’s arms swinging lightly by her side, Ali rocking back on her heels, grins fading and the same quiet from the morning has returned without fanfare. It’s something both of them feel but are unable to explain: a piqued interest and appreciation of the other settling into their veins. In the weeks to come, both will recall this moment without speaking it aloud; mulling it over repeatedly, wondering what it meant.

                The clattering of the pool equipment brings them back to focus and with nearly identical jumps, they both speak at once.

                “So yeah, Becky was just –“

                “I guess I’ll go see what-“

                “Oh, sorry, what did you-”

                “Sorry, you go first-“

Nervous laughter emanates from them at the same time, and then Ashlyn steps aside, motioning Ali to walk ahead of her to the door. Ali takes her cue, smiling and sliding by, catching the scent of her as she passes. Ashlyn hangs a few steps back, and though they can’t see it, they both leave wearing similar dazed smiles.

**_they left a ringing in my ear but that drum’s still beating loud and clear_ **

                The next day, Ali is more prepared than she was before, having taken the morning to picture Ashlyn’s face clearly in her mind and hoping to remove any lingering weirdness, whatever it is. But when the keeper comes jogging up to her with a radiant smile, it’s as though Ali’s seeing her first the first time all over again.

                “Hey AC/DC. Let me guess, started your day with some morning yoga to the tune of Black Sabbath?” Ashlyn jokes while reaching behind Ali for a Powerade water bottle, giving off the same trace of soap and linens and winter forests as the night before and it’s with a degree of difficulty that Ali doesn’t lick her lips.

                “It was Metallica actually,” Ali quips, the waver in her voice mostly undetectable. Ashlyn rolls her eyes in response, gulping water down and leaving a trickle going down her chin. She wipes it with her sleeve, jerking her head back towards the field.

                “Up for some more shots this morning? Or are you trying to perfect giving the other team corner kicks?” She dodges Ali’s incoming swat to her upper arm, putting her gloves on.

                “What? Think you can take me?” Ali challenges, leaning to the side to toe a ball over between them.

                “I think I’d definitely like to try.” Ashlyn’s voice is an octave lower than before, and if Ali was able to meet her eyes, she’d see that the keeper’s own had darted down to look at her mouth. When she finally looks up, Ashlyn has turned towards the goal, calling over shoulder as she takes off, “Come on, you can get a few shots in before we start with the team.”

                Ali’s gaze travels down to appreciate her retreating form and it hits her at once. It isn’t because she’s nice. Or rather, it isn’t _just_ that. From the swirling butterflies in her stomach to the mouth watering smell of her hair that’s still lingering in her nose, it has a whole lot to do with the fact that Ali really would just love to see where her tattoos end and if she’s got any hidden by her kit. As much as she likes knowing exactly why she’s turned into a nervous pubescent girl in the last day and a half, she can’t help but feel the complications arising in her head. It’s not even as easy as saying it’s her teammate or that she’s a woman: there’s Germany and publicity and her family and _I don’t even know her_.

                But Ashlyn is waving from towards the goal, shouting back to her, “Today, Kriegs!” and Ali responds, bringing the ball with her towards the southern end of the field. _Not now,_ she thinks, _I don’t have to figure it out right now._

**_as i move my feet towards your body i can hear this beat_ **

                A week later, Ali is happy that the dumbfounded silence has ended but the infatuation seems to only be growing. The sun shines happily over Kennesaw, Georgia and as a result, the team has resorted to tank tops and shorts. For Ashlyn diving all over the grass, Ali knows it’s a sacrifice to her skin but she’s happy that she’s willing to make it. Ashlyn makes another dive for Abby’s shot, sweat glistening from her shoulders to her wrists, muscles stretching out and flexing and Ali’s fixated.

                The two of them have talked every day, covering solid ground in the direction of a friendship. While Ali is perfectly aware of her attraction to Ashlyn, her rationality has only allowed her to act on having her as a friend. It’s easy to like her, even when one doesn’t consider how good she looks, and Ali already trusts her nearly as much as a few friends from home. They’re often together in their free time, bringing their circle of friends in camp together and forming a larger group. The girls playing in the WPS have their own fellowship, and Ali is happy to be brought into the unit.

                It feels a bit like a summer camp, she thinks one evening as eight of them pile into Ashlyn and Alex’s room to watch _The Runaways_ on HBO together. There are girls braiding each other’s hair and painting one another’s toes and barely even paying attention to the movie, taking a few moments to debate Zac Efron’s cute ass versus Channing Tatum’s. They come from different teams and even some different countries in Ali’s case but the patterns they fall into are easy to want to keep.

                Ali sits next to Ashlyn at the head of her bed, using the excuse of the latter being the holder of the popcorn. Their shoulders start out far enough apart but throughout the movie, though neither of them would admit it, they’ve both been making infinitesimal movements towards the other, and if anyone pointed out the fact that their arms are now nearly overlapping, they’d deny any knowledge of how it happened.

                Ali absentmindedly reaches towards the bucket only to have Ashlyn pull it further away, sticking her tongue out on the right side of her mouth while she keeps her eyes on the screen. Ali reaches again only to receive a gentle yet insistent elbow in her ribs, and then the popcorn is hovering in the air by fingertips as Ashlyn works to dodge Ali’s fingers scrabbling over her face and arms. Ali decides to play a little dirty and leans over to work her fingers into Ashlyn’s side, trying to tickle her. With a soft laugh, Ashlyn releases the popcorn into Ali’s lap. Ali gives her a questioning look, reaching in for a handful.

                “That wouldn’t have gotten you very far. I’m not ticklish.” Ashlyn takes a Reece’s Pieces from the bag on the bedside table and pops it into her mouth.

                “It looks like I’ll have to look into other ways to torture you then,” Ali says simply, deviously waggling her eyebrows before turning back to the TV.

                Ashlyn starts to reply but her voice dies in her throat when her eyes cut to the screen. Kristen Stewart is blowing cigarette smoke into Dakota Fanning’s mouth, screen bright with red light filling the room. Some of the girls hoot and giggle, cutting the sudden tension. Ali tries to laugh along with them, but then Dakota Fanning sits up to fully kiss Kristen Stewart and she’s suddenly hyperaware of Ashlyn’s skin touching hers.

                Slowly, with miniscule movements and barely breathing, she turns to look out of the corner of her eye and Ashlyn is staring forward, her chest still save for short heaves which correspond to shallow breaths from her nose. Ali’s arm is tingling from her shoulder to her wrist, _why did I wear a tank top_ , and she’s seen girl on girl in movies before but this is just like watching The L Word with that blonde from sophomore year of college and they hadn’t even been able to finish the episode before clothes were being tugged and pulled off and they were laying in a sweaty tangled heap before the final credits rolled.

                She wants to move her arm; wants space and distance and doesn’t want to feel the heat radiating from her left side, everywhere touching Ashlyn and everywhere that’s close. She doesn’t want to turn her head and lift the stray hairs from Ashlyn’s messy bun from her neck and run her fingertips down the column of her throat and the lines of her collarbone. She doesn’t want to kick everyone out of this room, say fuck it all to them knowing about her with girls, with Ashlyn, and she definitely doesn’t want to take the next three hours to memorize each curve and line and plane of the keeper’s body.

                On the television, because God is cruel and _why the fuck are we watching this_ , the kaleidoscopic lesbian sex scene is starting, along with a quick pulse of music and some aged singer is warbling and Ali can’t help but agree: _now I’m ready to close my eyes, now I’m ready to close my mind_ and there are snippets of skin and hair and intense eyes and _wait fuck fuck fuck did she just move?_ But when Ali looks down to see if Ashlyn’s fingers really did just slide up her wrist, the music has stopped and the scene has changed and just as abruptly as the film cut, the tension in the room has ended and the girls have gone back to their chatter.

                Ashlyn lets out a nervous laughter that finishes in a breathy whisper, “I think I’ve found a good way.”

Ali does her best to make it look like her putting space between them is really because she wanted to lean over and check to see if her phone was charged or not.

**_it fills my head up and gets louder and louder_ **

                Two nights later, Ali can’t fucking think straight. She’s been in a tear all day, unable to find a kind word for anyone and it’s so unlike her, she doesn’t feel like herself and _no it’s not that time of the month_ but what could it be? The best thing about her being in a mood is that even though practice was horribly long, she felt like she played some of the best soccer of her life. Maybe even a little too well. On the third time play stopped for her fouling the opposing forward, Pia had to ask if she knew she wasn’t playing American football.

                The highlight of her day came from being on the opposite scrimmage team as Ashlyn. With a cross fed to her in an empty pocket on the right side, Ali took a fast break up the sideline, shouldering and elbowing her way through the midfield and defense, setting up a gorgeous shot. She only hesitated a bit when she saw Ashlyn’s stunned expression and felt a wholly encompassing joy when she felt the ball fly off the perfect position on her foot and sail straight into the upper right corner, far out of the keeper’s reach, no matter how hard she tried.

                After the quick game ended and the team trailed their way to the locker room, Ashlyn caught up to Ali with a heavy hand on her shoulder. Whipping around, Ali prepared a snippy comment as had been her pattern all day but the sight of the blonde kept her mouth shut.

                “How’s it going Pele? Have a good practice?” Ashlyn gave her a characteristically large smile but Ali didn’t return it in full force, suddenly wanting nothing but to be away from her.

                “Well, we’re not really here to play around you know. I’ve gotta give it everything or that position won’t be mine next month.” Turning and continuing into the hallway, Ali tried to ignore the quick flash of confusion on Ashlyn’s face.

                “Right, yeah. Just commenting.” For the first time, the conversation between the two of them was struggling to find traction and as much as Ali wanted to preserve what was becoming a great friendship, she also felt the petulant devil on her shoulder keeping her mouth closed.

                “Sorry,” she said hastily, pausing before opening the locker room door, “I’m just sort of distracted today. You did well out there. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

                When the door opened, confusion had turned into a clear mask of hurt, but Ali had kept walking, intent on putting as much space as possible between them.

                Back in her room, Ali is still frustrated, taking a quick moment to appreciate the fact that Becky had wanted to hang out with the others in someone else’s room. She thinks briefly that perhaps her roommate had read the signs like everyone else and was leaving her alone, and she has a moment of embarrassment, realizing that she’ll have to work hard the next day to make up for her sour attitude.

                With a deep sigh, she climbs into her bed even though the clock only reads 8:34, thinking maybe a good night’s sleep will set her straight. However, as she reaches to click off her lamp and slide down into the blankets, her mind is still racing with activity, finding more reasons to be annoyed but even Ali herself can hear them as ridiculous. _What the fuck, just go to sleep_ , Ali stresses to herself, flipping onto her back and trying to get into her relaxation routine, focusing heavily on each body part as she goes.

When she reaches her hips, she rolls them backwards and brings her hands to her sides to control the movement, stopping suddenly when Ashlyn’s face comes swimming into her mind’s eye. It starts as just her face and then her upper torso, arms raised above her head with the ball in her hands, sweat dripping from her brow and chin, glistening on the skin of her arms and _wait she’d never wear a sports bra to train_.

                As soon as she thinks it, Ashlyn in her head drops the ball and looks straight at her, the cocky smirk from the day they met teasing the corners of her lips. Immediately, Ali feels a very real thrill travel down her spine, stopping and centering between her hips. Ashlyn gets clearer and clearer, more of her appearing until she’s standing in Ali’s mind in a sports bra, boxer briefs and nothing else, hands on her hips and sweat gleaming all over her. Then her hands are moving, sliding up her body and crossing sides until they’re reaching under the lip of her bra and starting to pull up and Ali doesn’t realize her own hands have covered the space between her thighs until she presses and the first jolt radiates.

                _This is it_ , she thinks in a haze and then there’s no thoughts of her own save for Ashlyn’s body as she removes her top and stands before her, strong hands traveling up and down her body, flexing and showing off her muscles, smirk turning into that bright smile that Ali loves to see. Her own hands have moved from outside of her pajamas and have moved under the waistband, teasing the edges of her underwear. Her head replays a particularly great save except for this time she has Ashlyn in something that would _definitely_ leave her in pain if she slid for the save but in her fantasy she just stands up and brushes the grass off, lifting her hand to beckon another shot from Ali.

                Then she pictures her tattoos, realizing that was one of the first things she’d wondered about, dream Ashlyn dutifully standing still as Ali’s mind peppers her with different marks, filling in the spaces that she hadn’t already seen in the locker room. Her fingers have worked themselves inside the last small cloth barrier and are slipping over and below her clit, gathering the collected wetness and sliding with ease and pleasure again and again. She starts to think of her own Penn state tattoo, so close to where no one could see it in a swimsuit and pictures a tar heel on Ashlyn’s hip, and in her head, the keeper graciously starts to peel down her boxer briefs, sliding her hand down and towards the middle and everything is so fucking good.

                That is, until Ali hears the door lock whirring with the card key being slid in and she has barely enough time to remove her hands from her pants before the door is opening, Becky and Ashlyn laughing as they enter the room.

**_i run to the river and dive straight in, i pray that the water will drown out the din_ **

                Luckily their laughter is loud enough to cover the panting breath that Ali can’t quite control while she rolls over to face the door. The two of them stop in the doorway, freezing at the sight of the dark room and Ali framed in the sliver of light coming from the hall.

                “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were asleep, we’ll go,” Becky says and begins to step backwards, running into Ashlyn who has stopped in her tracks and is peering in at Ali.

                _Speak of the devil_ she thinks, and barely stops herself from adding, _well you weren’t exactly speaking_ before she moves to sit up, bringing the blankets down to her lap and unable to not think about her fingers and the wetness that she’s trying desperately to hide on the fabric of her clothes and sheets. “No, it’s okay. I’d just gotten in bed. It’s no big deal. I don’t think I can really fall asleep yet anyway.” Her words come out in a quick tumble and she’s so sure they’re going to realize what she was doing but they cautiously enter, giving no indication of noticing her squeakier than normal voice.

                “We just needed to grab some stuff from my bag. Ash wanted to check out this book I brought. We’ll be out in a minute.” From behind Becky, Ashlyn smiles and waves. “Hey Ali. Sorry to barge in.”

                Ali just shrugs it off, “No big deal. I was just thinking maybe I could hit the sack early, have me time, you know?” Her eyes widen and _did you just fucking say that out loud_ and she might as well just tell them what she was doing, tell Ashlyn she was thinking of her but the two of them are somehow still focused on Becky’s side of the bed as she kneels to zip open her bag.

                Even though she could easily rationalize that they can’t possibly know, even if they do suspect and besides, they’re too busy to even notice anything is weird, Ali hops up from her bed, moving to her own suitcase. Ashlyn looks up and away from the book Becky has unearthed from her pile of clothes, and Ali brings out a towel.

                “Actually, you know, I think it’d be good to shower. Maybe it’ll actually make me tired,” and she’s practically racing to the bathroom but fuck, she’ll have to cross by them, so close and she really doesn’t think she’d be able to handle Ashlyn’s clean scent of her shampoo and whatever she spritzes on herself every day.

                But Becky is standing and walking to the door, and Ali feels immensely relieved for a few seconds until she watches her go out into the hallway and Ashlyn doesn’t follow. She pauses in the middle of the room, a few steps from her, not listening to Becky calling out a quick goodbye. Instead, she only hears Ashlyn’s, “Just one sec, Broon.”

                Ali walks slowly towards her, eyeing the door handle directly to her left and wondering how hard it would be to explain if she just darted inside and locked the door behind her. But then Ashlyn is reaching her hand out, catching Ali on the shoulder and she’s frozen in place and _I fucking swear she can smell it on me._

                Ashlyn just smiles, “Hey, it seems like you’ve had a rough day. Do you wanna talk about it?” And as much as Ali wants to run away and hide, she can’t help but feel moved by her concern. She calms herself a bit, twisting her hands into her towel.

                “Yeah, I’m sorry about that, I’m sorry about earlier. I’ve just been sort of off. I’ve had a headache and you know, I think I’m just tired. Not much of an excuse for being a bitch, though.” She puts as much feeling into the words as possible, not only wanting to escape but wanting Ashlyn to forget her hasty words in the locker room hallway earlier.

                As hoped, Ashlyn just shrugs. “No big deal, happens to all of us. But really, if you need to talk, just let me know,” and she pats her on the shoulder before reaching behind her for the door handle, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

                Ali can only nod while pulling open the bathroom door, closing and locking it behind her as she hears the outer door click shut as well.

**_but as the water fills my mouth it couldn’t wash the echoes out_ **

                Steam has filled the entirety of the bathroom, water as hot as Ali can stand; she’s got her forehead pressed to the cold white tile, spray hitting the broad part of her back as her hands work below, one foot balanced precariously on the edge of the tub. She’s grateful for the loud continuous drone of the heavy showerhead as it’s succeeded in drowning out her pants and gasps, audible to her own ears even as she tries with all her might to press her mouth to the shower wall as well.

                One pass with her right hand then a second, and two of her left fingers are inside and she feels herself so wound up and tight, coiled around two weeks’ worth of tension and glances and the sight of those arms. She’s biting down hard on her lip, so hard she’s sure she’ll taste blood soon. She focuses all her might on the visions from before; strong Ashlyn, sweaty Ashlyn, coyly teasing the waistband of her underwear Ashlyn, speeding up with her right hand, pushing herself to the edge.

                She’s so slick; her fingers are in and out, in and out with ease, catching and curling upwards at her entrance to press and twist. It’s so delicious and she feels it coming from the tips of her toes; a flame licking up her skin and weaving around her bones and she’s going to come undone, needs it, and she’s almost there but it keeps jumping out of reach.

                Almost of its own volition, her fantasy fades and changes. Ashlyn is no longer playing soccer, no longer teasing. Ali’s got a new image to focus on, picturing her down on her knees. They’re together, both in the shower and it’s almost like the keeper is there with her. Suddenly, Ali’s fingers aren’t hers anymore, and that’s not her hand, it’s a dimpled mouth; smiling and kissing the inside of her hip and then diving in, relentlessly attacking her clit and Ali’s furiously moving her hand, feeling the first tip over the line and she pictures Ashlyn winking up at her and she’s gone.

                Sure of the fact that she’s become more audible than the shower in the last thirty seconds, Ali prays to whoever is listening that no one was around to hear.

**_i swallow the sound and it swallows me whole till there’s nothing left inside my soul_ **

                In the last week of camp, Ali becomes less and less concerned with keeping herself neutral and feels a new resolution: she will not leave without at least giving it a good, honest try. If she allows herself to consider things, she realizes that Ashlyn has also had moments where her eyes have lingered, or in the case of the locker room, averted. _I can’t be the only one_ , she thinks one day at dinner when Ashlyn is blushing, face ducked down after a particularly flirtatious remark from Ali regarding her position; on the field of course, she clarified.

                She thinks of this for the rest of the week, allowing her hands to linger for longer than necessary when they hug, taking more opportunities to smack her ass after practice, playing it off as a joke but also making sure to lock eyes with Ashlyn, once trying to include biting her lip which she’s sure didn’t come off as sexy. Each day comes and goes, Ali thinking that the keeper will finally make her move as she’d once overheard when Ashlyn was talking with Abby.

                “I’d consider myself a soft stud, I think,” she says seriously, Abby tossing her head back with a chuckle. “I’m pretty direct with girls! Honest!”

                She would’ve hung back longer but Alex Morgan had come along, linking arms and continuing to the field. Ali had taken the rest of the day to be as flirtatious as possible, even once allowing her pat on Ashlyn’s back to slide down her arm and continue to her wrist. She’d stopped just short of taking her hand, heartbeat taking off and showing a big stop sign.

                Still, it’s two days until they’re due to leave and when Ashlyn doesn’t agree to movie night with the rest of the group, Ali begins to wonder if maybe she _is_ imagining things.

**_i’m empty as that beating drum but the sound has just begun_ **

                Ali’s packing her bag after the movie, not even having paid enough attention to know what she’d sat through. It wasn’t as fun to mock lines with the others when she wasn’t also trying to keep her hands off of Ashlyn. There’d been three other movie nights since the first, and though they were careful to campaign for movies that looked as though there would be no Sapphic sexual tension, they’d both kept up with the proximity.

                She’s starting to fully give in, realizing that maybe she’d had it wrong. Once, Ali had been dragged into the discussion of the hottest male soccer players and participated with glee, describing David Beckham’s perfectly sculpted face with zeal. At the time, she’d thought Ashlyn looked away from her with cartoonish disgust, having openly described herself as a lesbian, but now she’s wondering if it wasn’t actual disappointment at her. Perhaps she hadn’t imagined the mutual flirting, but it was starting to be too late.

                _Then maybe it isn’t enough to wait_ , she thinks to herself, _maybe I’ll have to do it_. Thinking back to the night she’d almost been caught, how good it felt in the shower later to imagine how it would look with Ashlyn’s head between her legs, perhaps it was worth getting over her insecurities and make the first move. Wasn’t it worth trying rather than to spend the next six months with heightened water bills and excessive battery purchases?

                The door is whirring while being unlocked, and she immediately hopes to see Ashlyn walking in to tell her she’s unable to do anything but think of how badly they need to make love, _fuck?_ she questions, interrupting her daydream _,_ but then it’s just Becky and Alex, and she turns her back to them so they won’t see her disappointment.

                “Al,” Becky starts, sitting down on her bed. Ali turns around to face her as Alex plops down in the desk chair next to the TV.

                “Yeah?” she asks warily, t-shirt in her hand forgotten.

                “When are you going to tell Harris that you want to marry her and have lots of gay babies?” Alex asks while inspecting a hangnail.

                Before Ali can splutter a reply, Becky pipes up, “Well, I mean, maybe not gay babies. Gay in the sense that you two are gay as fuck for each other and you’d like babies together. The babies can identify as they please.”

                Alex grins and nods, looking up at Ali. “Cause dude you’ve got like two days left. Sure we’ve got the tournament, but wouldn’t you like to spend the month having lots of sex outside of a hotel room with roommates and then also doing it some more in Mexico?”

                “Don’t forget Ash’s birthday on the 18th or something. You can avoid the whole ‘what do I get the girl I just started dating?’ thing and just give her your bod,” says Becky as she flops back on her bed, pulling her pillow to prop herself up.

                They go quiet watching Ali’s head implode, grinning with amusement at their comments’ effect. Ali tries a few times to come up with a refutation until finally, she just exhales in annoyance and drops her shirt back into her bag.

                “Look, I’ve been waiting for her to do something, and frankly I’m kind of irritated that I feel like I’ve been throwing myself at her and she hasn’t done anything. Also, I was thinking about making a move myself until I realized that I’m a big dork and that would be ridiculous.” It comes out in a quick exhale as Ali takes a seat on the edge of her bed.

                Becky and Alex share an infuriating glance like _I told you so_ , and turn back to her as she puts her face in her hands. “How obvious is it?”

                Alex shrugs, “After you made the comment about the girl you dated right before you went to Germany, I figured you played for both teams at least. It wasn’t hard to connect that comment and you drooling every time you look at her. It’s amazing you’re even able to defend the ball without doing some sort of stripper bend over.” Becky reaches over for a high five while cackling.

                “Maybe that would’ve gotten me farther than I am now,” Ali grumbles, then sighs. “Honestly, yeah I’m totally into her but I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if she feels the same, or if I think she does.”

                Becky rolls her eyes. “No, she absolutely does. Even when I’m talking with her, all she does is retell me stories about you like somehow I haven’t been present for most of them. She hasn’t said anything about wanting to do you, but it’s not a stretch.”

                Alex chimes in, “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure she’s oblivious as fuck about you being into her. I was talking about you dating someone, trying to feel her out and she said she thinks you’re into some dude back in Germany.”

                Throwing her hands in the air, Ali scoffs. “I tell one story about a friend and she’s convinced I’m straight. Fuck. I’m sure if I told her about the girls I’ve dated she’ll think I’m someone who just does it for attention.” She rubs her hands over her face, groaning and fighting the urge to kick something heavy. “Guys, what do I do?”

                There’s a pause from Becky and Alex as they look between each other. Then, Alex turns to Ali with a bright and cheery, “Got a dancing dress?”

**_there’s a drumming noise inside my head that starts when you’re around_ **

               For the third song in a row, this guy has been humping into Ali’s ass and she’s pretty sure this isn’t going to do much in getting the point across to Ashlyn that she’d like to discuss making their relationship physical. No matter how many times she tries to shuffle around to Becky and Alex, who all too giddily agreed that a night of dancing in the shortest dress she brought with her would do the trick, he keeps following after her.

              To make matters worse, Ashlyn seems to be having a terrible time, leaning back against the speakers and generally pouting. Once, she cuts her eyes over to where the three of them are dancing, and she’s positive that she didn’t imagine her scowl. Quickly after that, she’s walking over to Megan Rapinoe, and she turns to Alex and Becky.

              “Guys, this isn’t working,” she half shouts into the close circle they’ve formed, rhinestone jeans man trailing dutifully behind her. As she turns to stop him, Alex squeals and jumps like she’d been burned, whirling to face him directly.

              “That’s **my** ass you fuckhead. Why don’t you go find someone else to grope?” and under the power of three angry stares from three equally muscular women, he scampers off elsewhere.

              “She’s talking to Pinoe. Why don’t you ask her to dance?” Becky suggests, a bit quieter as the music starts to transition.

              “Yeah, but in a few minutes cause this song is garbage,” Alex complains, taking them both by the hand and dragging them towards Pinoe and Ashlyn.

              In a few minutes, miraculously, Ali’s got her hand on Ashlyn’s, urging her to come onto the floor with them. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

**_i swear that you could hear it, it makes such an almighty sound_ **

             The two of them are meshed together; hip to hip, back to chest, Ashlyn’s head has fallen forward onto Ali’s shoulder, and Ali couldn’t be more pleased. She works her hips around in a long, deep circle, then alternating to tighter twirls, making sure to send her ass back into Ashlyn’s pelvis each time. Her breath is coming in quick, ragged gasps, the solid hour and a half of dance having worn her out.

             She feels a nice warm tingling around her ears from her downed vodka tonics, enough to get her brave but not enough to alter any thought process. _She’s here with me_ , she thinks with perfect clarity, committing to memory the way her hands feel on Ashlyn’s biceps as Ashlyn grips hard onto her hips.

             With her eye on the prize, Ali hangs on tight and sends her ass back once more with feeling, rewarded immediately as Ashlyn moans out loud, the sound carried almost directly into Ali’s ear. With a flush between her legs, Ali bites her lip to keep from making a noise herself, relishing in the effect she’s having on the keeper.

             In what seems like no time at all, Ashlyn’s had enough and has dragged them from the floor. Thinking they’re heading straight out and back to the hotel, Ali is slightly disappointed when they stop just short of the door in a relatively quiet corner. Her heart warms as she hears Ashlyn’s trepidation, worrying the whole time about whether or not Ali is comfortable. If she hadn’t been convinced she was right before, she definitely is now.

             “I can’t tell you what’s going to happen afterwards, but I can give you a good idea of my plans for the next few hours,” Ali says while looking into her eyes, and Ashlyn looks ready to jump for joy.

**_louder than sirens, louder than bells, sweeter than heaven and hotter than hell_ **

             Ali makes it back over to Pinoe, Becky, and Alex at the bar while Ashlyn stands back in their corner, cell phone pressed to her ear with a cab company. It only takes the three of them to glance back at Ashlyn before Pinoe speaks first, “So you’re bailing on us, I hope.”

             She doesn’t have words left, so Ali just grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, fighting the urge to do a victory jig in front of them. Alex and Becky give each other a furtive low five, motioning back behind her. “Your girl’s waiting.”

             When she turns, she sees Ashlyn by the door, waving her over. She’s got a big, beautiful smile on her face, radiant with joy and excitement. Ali works to control herself on the way back over, wanting to run and close the gap between them, kiss her fully and wait until later to really take her time. But when she’s standing in front of her and Ashlyn tenderly takes hold of her hand, she knows it’s going to be worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> A. I'm sorry this is so long. I super did not intend for it to happen.  
> B. The song format is weird but go with it?  
> C. I'm sorry it took so long for the follow up! Finals happened but now I'm on break. Let's hope I can get part 3 out quickly.  
> D. I hope you guys like it.


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